“Sparrow?”
This time, the voice didn’t come from the shadows, but from right in front of me. But it wasn’t Vahn’s voice, either. Strong fingers gripped my arms, firm but gentle, and I opened my eyes. Peeking out from the covers, I looked up into Raithe’s concerned gaze.
He released me as soon as our eyes met and drew back a pace. Behind him, Halek snorted, still asleep, and turned over on his side. Kysa’s breathing faltered, then continued, slow and deep. I bit my lip and glanced back at Raithe, who continued to watch me with concern.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
I ducked my head, my eyes stinging. “I think I caught the attention of a spirit,” I whispered. “Something is out there calling to me. It... it sounded like Vahn.”
His gaze turned sympathetic. “Try to ignore it,” he murmured. “I know it’s hard. But if you don’t respond, eventually they’ll get bored or distracted and leave.” He moved beside me and sat down, leaning against the rock wall. “I’ll stay up with you, so you don’t have to face it alone.”
I nodded at him gratefully. The night was silent now; either the spirit had given up or it didn’t want to call out when there was more than one person to hear. “How does it know about Vahn?” Iasked the kahjai beside me. “I haven’t talked about him since we left Irrikah.”
“It doesn’t,” Raithe answered. “The historians say it’s part of the curse of these lands. The spirits call out to you, but you hear the voices of the people you miss the most. The ones you’ve lost. It’s your own memories, your own longing and guilt, that cause you to hear them as you do. There’s a reason my people never returned to this place.”
I shivered. “Whoever did this,” I said, “whichever king it was, he must’ve been a real bastard.”
“He hated the queen,” Raithe answered, surprising me. “The war affected everyone, but according to the most ancient stories, there was a personal grudge between Sahmessyia and one of the other Deathless, though his name has been lost to time. He didn’t just want to destroy her, he wanted to corrupt everything she had built, everything she had created. Including us.
“The day of the cataclysm,” Raithe went on, his eyes distant, “the iylvahn were nearly wiped out. The accounts say it happened quickly—a blink, a flash, and everything was gone. Turned to stone in an instant. But the king didn’t want to erase us. He wanted an eternal reminder to the queen that therewasa land here, once, full of life and people. So the statues remained, to twist the knife in as deep as it could go.
“But he didn’t get us all. A few remained—a handful, but enough to rebuild, repopulate, and start over from nothing. The queen was able to hide us for the rest of the war, until the other Deathless eventually destroyed themselves.”
Raithe gazed toward the horizon, where a thin crescentmoon hovered over the valley like a razor-thin smile. “We owe the queen our lives,” he murmured. “Without her, the iylvahn would have been destroyed, and the shadows that haunt these lands would be the only hint that we existed at all.”
Regret churned softly within. The iylvahn had good reason to revere the queen; she had literally saved their entire race from extinction. I wished I had known this before. I hadn’t really given Raithe the chance to explain anything before I’d accused him of deceiving us. I’d reacted solely on fear, and things had sort of fallen apart from there.
Was it too late to fix things? Did Iwantto fix things, knowing what I did now?
“Raithe...” He immediately looked at me, and I swallowed hard. “I... I reacted badly... when we met the queen,” I stammered. “I saw a Deathless, and... that was all I could think about. I didn’t give you a chance to explain anything. Maybe if I had...”
He sighed. “You reacted badlybecauseI didn’t tell you anything,” he said. “I could have. Between Kovass and Irrikah, there were plenty of chances to say something, and not a day goes by that I don’t wonder why I didn’t. I guess...”
For the first time since I’d known him, Raithe faltered. Bowing his head, he didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he did speak, his voice was barely a breath between us. “I was afraid that you would see me like you did Vahn. Your trust was such a fragile thing at first—it was like trying to coax a wounded bird into my hand. I thought that if you knew the truth, you would believe I was just another servant of a Deathless, willingto sacrifice you to their ruler.” He smiled, and the chuckle that escaped him was a bitter thing, low and self-mocking. “Of course, that’s the height of irony, I realize now. By not telling you anything, that’s exactly what I made happen”
“I know you’re not like Vahn.” The words were out of my mouth before I knew it, startling me. Because they were true. Both served a Deathless. Both had kept things from me. But I had always chased Vahn’s affection; the scraps of approval that he’d thrown my way had been rare but frequent enough to keep me going. To keep trying to please him. And even though I’d desperately wanted him to acknowledge me as a daughter, all he’d ever seen me as was a tool. A thing that would bring the Deathless King back into the world.
When Raithe looked at me, it was very different. His affection was never forced. Though the emotion in his eyes both thrilled and terrified me, I knew it was true.
Even though the queen herself had warned me about trusting my heart to a kahjai.
“You’re not like him,” I said again, as Raithe continued to watch me. “I know that now.” His eyes glowed like the halo of light around the crescent moon, and my heart beat faster in response. I swallowed hard and spoke the words I dreaded. “I just... I don’t want the day to come when you have to choose between me andher.”
He didn’t ask what I meant. He didn’t immediately assure me that I had nothing to worry about. We both knew that wasn’t true. If the queen gave Raithe a direct order, he would have to obey. Even if it meant hurting me.
Raithe was silent for a long moment, sitting against the rock with one knee bent, his arm resting atop it. When he finally spoke, his tone was resigned, and the pain threaded through the words tugged at my heart. “I wish I could give you some sort of promise, Sparrow,” he murmured, his gaze on the stones at his feet. “I wish I could assure you that none of the things you fear would be realized. But when it comes to the Deathless and the Fateless, even prophecy can’t be trusted. I can’t make you any vows or promises when nothing about our fates is certain.”
Nothing is certain.Hope flickered. Maybe I would be able to save him, to change his fate, after all.
“I know,” I whispered back. “I understand, Raithe. I don’t want you to promise me anything.”
“I will say this, though.” He took a quiet breath, and the hand on his knee curled into a fist. “You... mean a great deal to me, and not just because you’re the Fateless.” My heart turned over, my stomach doing crazy cartwheels, as the iylvahn continued. “If there ever comes a time when you can see me as more than the Deathless queen’s assassin, I’ll be here. For as long as I’m able. And I will protect you, with everything I have, until this journey is done.”
I blinked hard, driving back the tears stinging my eyes. Raithe hesitated a moment longer and then stood, outlined in hazy moonlight.
“If you hear any more spirits, try to ignore them,” he said, gazing down with soft eyes. The fingers on the hand closest to me twitched, reaching for my arm, then curled into a fist and dropped. “If you can’t ignore them, come find me. I’ll be close.”
He walked away, disappearing into the darkness, leaving me aching and fighting myself not to call out to him.
